It pains me every time I pretend I didn't hear a homeless person ask me for spare change. Like a tiny stab at the heart. I don't know why I'm like this
It's like I dehumanise them for the brief five seconds they try to initiate contact with me and I just close them off because I'm irrationally afraid of the consequences of recognising them as humans in times of hardship.
Even more, I think I'm just afraid of what I would do next after I've given them some spare change. Do I continue giving out spare change to homeless people? Or was this just a one-off where I can rejoice in feeling better about myself for recognising them? Either way, it does make me confront some really harsh truths about myself. I wonder if people feel the same way.